


Visitors Of The Void

by youngskeleton



Category: Bandom, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Strokes
Genre: Airplanes, Angst and Humor, Apocalypse, Complicated Relationships, Crack, Friendship, Gen, Loosely based off of the Human Sadness video, Magic and Science, Multi, Other, POV Multiple, Science Fiction, Survival, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngskeleton/pseuds/youngskeleton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Flying overseas / No time to feel the breeze..." - The Modern Age</p>
<p>The Strokes thought they were taking a flight home, but things go immensely awry. They find themselves in an unfamiliar world, and must learn to work together in order to survive and return to their own time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visitors Of The Void

Albert was fighting the urge to fall asleep against the cool, humming airplane window. Last night had been the final concert of the Strokes' summer tour, and now he was itching to get back home and see Justyna and relax for a while. Ryan had persuaded the band to take a private jet, some sort of deal with the record company, and it was a pretty sweet plane; designed by Google, it had military-level jets, an incredible on-board computer that only needed one pilot, and even self-locking seat belts. But no phones were allowed on board for security reasons, and there was only enough room for six people, plus the pilot. Everyone had complained about that, but in the end, Albert wound up seated next to Nick, who had spent the entire flight so far asleep with his eyes open. Albert sneaked a peek at him, and yeah, Nick still slept like something out of the Exorcist, with his blank blue eyes gormlessly pointed in opposite directions. Albert shuddered inwardly; that grossed him out ten years ago, and it still did. 

He watched Julian and Nikolai play hangman in the row in front of him instead. He was fairly sure that Julian had picked some bullshit word like "syzygy", and spelt it wrong too, but it was pretty amusing to see Nikolai patiently guess through three-quarters of the alphabet in the process. Julian drew an additional noose around the poor stick man's neck, and Nikolai just laughed.

At the front of the plane, Fab and Ryan were making small talk. Albert would have liked to have sat next to either of them, but the pilot had insisted that Ryan and Fab sit in the front row, to balance out the plane's weight. He drummed his fingers against the windowpane, and admired the azure sea below for a while. The sooner they got home, the better. He couldn't even use his phone to pass the time, and he had forgotten to bring a book to read.

A door opened at the front of the cabin, and the pilot, a gregarious, bearded man, stepped out. 

"How is everyone doing? Don't worry, the plane's on autopilot." He beamed, clasping his hands together. "I'd like to thank you all for choosing Titanium Airlines today. It's an honor to have the Strokes aboard. All thanks to this man - Ryan Gentles! Come up here, I'm sure you have something to say." Ryan looked flattered, if not slightly confused, as his seat belt unlocked and he wobbled up to where the captain stood.

"Well, I…"

Albert turned his attention back to the clear horizon; he had grown accustomed to the many speeches Ryan had made over the years, and this one was no different. The man's words blended into a drone, backed up by a faint buzzing noise that had started up. Nick had started to snore softly, which grated further on Albert's nerves. Finally, the captain started speaking again. 

"Lovely speech. Fantastic," he said, placing a hand on Ryan's shoulder, "just one more thing we have to discuss." Albert began massaging his temples, ready for another speech. The buzzing kept getting louder, and the plane wasn't riding steadily like before. Shouldn't the pilot be flying the plane?

"My revenge." In a flash, a heavy pistol was pointing at Ryan's head, and the pilot's beefy arm was wrapped around his neck. Everyone let out a collective shout of terror, and Nick bolted awake next to Albert, thrashing against his seat belt. Fuck, fuck, fuck went the steady stream of words in Albert's head, as he fumbled with his own seat belt. It was steadfastly locked, controlled by some security system explained at the beginning of the flight, and they were all trapped. He stared, wide-eyed, as did everyone else at the scene unfolding at the front of the plane. 

With some difficulty and a grimace of pain, the pilot tore off his beard. "You see," he sneered, "I am not really a pilot at all!" Nick looked at Albert, raising an eyebrow to ask for an explanation. Albert just shook his head wildly, not wanting to tear his eyes away from the scene. 

After a beat, Ryan managed to choke out: "Who are you, exactly?" 

"I am Ryan Adams!" Yelled Ryan Adams, tightening his grip around the other man's throat. "You were my manager for three months! But nobody fucking recognizes me, because I'm not famous, because you were too busy focusing on these guys!" 

"Weren't you in a Shakira song?" Fab offered tentatively, eyes fixed on the man's gun. 

Ryan Adams snapped around, gritting his teeth. "I wrote 'New York, New York'," he hissed, brandishing the weapon, "and if this idiot hadn't been too busy with you pretty boy rock stars, I could have been even bigger than you."

The first thing that went through Albert's head was: Hey, we aren't pretty boys!  
The second thing was: Holy shit, we're going to die!

After a tense half-minute, Ryan Adams drew his gaze away from Fabrizio, and toward the exit hatch. Albert's head was pounding from the adrenaline and the increasingly loud humming, and he could literally feel the electricity coursing in the air. 

"So," grinned Ryan Adams, "my revenge on the inferior Ryan, and you guys, has just begun. He and I will be taking a lovely break in a boat far below this plane, and you people will be taking a break somewhere else entirely." He gestured towards the windows, and said in an eerily professional voice, "Now, if you look on your left, you'll see that the plane is programmed straight toward the Bermuda triangle, where mysterious 'disappearances' have been known to occur." 

Sure enough, Albert could make out a tumult of swarming, raging thunderclouds on the horizon. Nick was hyperventilating next to him, and the noise was making it increasingly difficult to focus. Fab had begun to whimper, and Ryan Adams laughed at their fear. 

"Well, so long kids," said Ryan Adams, "and Julian, you were always a shitty neighbour." And with that, he turned around to reveal a parachute, and jumped out of the hatch with a firm grip on the other Ryan, who was screaming in terror. 

The cabin began rattling as the plane accelerated, faster and faster into the oncoming mass of ominous clouds. Albert's eyes whipped around the cabin, looking for anything that could save them, but it was useless. Nick had passed out against his shoulder, Julian and Nikolai were clenching onto each other for dear life, and Fab was screaming his lungs out. Time was slowing down, and the buzzing was in his head now; his eyes felt like they were going to burst out of his skull.

Storm clouds enveloped the plane, and it all went black.


End file.
